[ Nebula doesn't have a lot of words left. No, that's not it. She's always had words. Too many, locked up in the place where she was safest. Where she'd tricked herself into believing her father wouldn't find - only half a lie. Her thoughts were her own, her memories weren't. So much of her would never be hers, that the one grace being her mind - her thoughts was a blessing she had kept many words in. ]
[ All the words that had to be locked away had pooled together so deeply that it feels at times like her heart will burst. The too fragile, soft heart that had to be shut down for survival. The one so desperate for love and family — It's filled every crevice of the dam she tried to trap it in and now rammed against the walls to find escape. Escape, because though her life now meant there was no imminent danger in all of those unspoken words... the bruised and battered remains of the heart she'd kept told a different story. She was both ready and not ready to share those things that had been hidden so deeply. ]
[ The mentions now were a lot, so much more than she would have a few months ago even if she felt them (knew) them so deeply. It felt if there was a moment longer that dam would burst - ]
[ - It doesn't. Because he clams up and it's a blessing for him, for both of them. That part of her that so desperately wants to protect itself is quick to grab that lifeline he offers. She nods curtly, swallowing hard. ]
[ And then she snorts adding with the petulance of someone who's always been a younger sibling: ]
You started it.
[ It's gruff, that sound of someone's dry humor with the hint of something - Something he might read. Recognition that he went that far in the first place, that they both could after so long. She does not need to say it, does not need to say more. Because this is enough. It was enough for him to just be there, as it always had been. ]
[ Neither one of them had ever liked talking. She rolls her shoulder and jerks her head: ]
Come check on my arm. Please.
[ They didn't need to say more, but she still wanted (needed) him there. ]
no subject
[ All the words that had to be locked away had pooled together so deeply that it feels at times like her heart will burst. The too fragile, soft heart that had to be shut down for survival. The one so desperate for love and family — It's filled every crevice of the dam she tried to trap it in and now rammed against the walls to find escape. Escape, because though her life now meant there was no imminent danger in all of those unspoken words... the bruised and battered remains of the heart she'd kept told a different story. She was both ready and not ready to share those things that had been hidden so deeply. ]
[ The mentions now were a lot, so much more than she would have a few months ago even if she felt them (knew) them so deeply. It felt if there was a moment longer that dam would burst - ]
[ - It doesn't. Because he clams up and it's a blessing for him, for both of them. That part of her that so desperately wants to protect itself is quick to grab that lifeline he offers. She nods curtly, swallowing hard. ]
[ And then she snorts adding with the petulance of someone who's always been a younger sibling: ]
You started it.
[ It's gruff, that sound of someone's dry humor with the hint of something - Something he might read. Recognition that he went that far in the first place, that they both could after so long. She does not need to say it, does not need to say more. Because this is enough. It was enough for him to just be there, as it always had been. ]
[ Neither one of them had ever liked talking. She rolls her shoulder and jerks her head: ]
Come check on my arm. Please.
[ They didn't need to say more, but she still wanted (needed) him there. ]